Lo: A Ho
by ametomoe
Summary: Gabriella may seem perfect, but Sharpay knows the real truth.


Lo: A Ho is my second HSM onesie. Review if you read!

Gabriella focused her moccasin-brown eyes on the table to the far left of hers, the table closest to the door of the squeaky clean red and white EHS cafeteria. She narrowed her lids and scanned the benches for the one she was looking to observe. **Ah, there he is,** she thought, as she grinned maliciously and hopped down from her seat on the top of the geek-squad table.

"Troy," She said seductively, before transforming her expression into her fake one, the one she had invented as her personality for her new school: pretty, charming, Catholic, smart, _sweet_ Gabby. Her insides twisted with disgust as she opened her eyes wide and twisted nervously in the spot where she was standing, making her pink flowery skirt flow against her thighs.

Troy Bolton turned abruptly at the unbelievably hot voice he'd just heard, but instead of seeing a scantily clad blonde with devil horns on her head, his eyes zeroed in instead on Gabriella, his school and singing mate. She looks so innocent in those clothes, he thought, before shaking his head and replying, "Gabriella, hi!" He smiled and was charmed when she looked down sheepishly before smiling back.

"I just wanted talk to you again before the next period," she paused, "about the musical, I mean. I think it's so great that everyone's finally accepted our singing – selves." She giggled. "Don't you?"

Troy laughed half-heartedly. "Yeah, it's nice that my team's coming to see the show, even if they do tease me about wearing leotards at basketball practice." He smiled at his own joke and stuffed his fists in the pocket of his green-stripe jacket. Gabriella laughed nasally, in a naïve and slightly childish way while tilting her head back to glance at the ceiling above Troy's head. She twisted a little closer to him, her hands clasped low in front of her waist.

"You're funny, Troy," she said.

**What the hell was that? You just made yourself sound like a dumb blonde. Okay, think smart… say something about school!** Gabriella shook her head a little before leaning widely to the right in order to look at the watch on the wall behind Troy's body. "Oh, I gotta get going, I have a thing I have to do before Geology. I'll see you at rehearsal!"

Troy's voice cracked when he answered, he was kind of worn out by Gabby's peppy-ness. "Okay, see you there." Each teen mimed goodbye and then turned in opposite directions – Troy to the table filled with his basketball boys and cheerleaders than followed him around like he were saintly, and Gabriella to the bathroom to analyze her recent conversations with Troy.

As she stepped, she took her black, wavy hair down from its butterfly clip that secured it in place and started to walk like she did naturally, in a bouncy strut that accented her Latino butt. Her neck rolled slightly and her eyes narrowed once more, daring anyone to knock the imaginary chip off her shoulder. She swung daintily into the bathroom and examined her light makeup job in the soap-marked mirror. "Ugh, I look like shit," she said aloud, and started smudging wet paper towels along her cheeks and collarbone, to make her skin a bit more vibrant. Noticing a scuff on her black shoes, she kneeled down to wipe it off, but cringed when her most sensitive parts stung in opposition. **Ha, Roberto and I did get crazier than I thought last night,** she thought dirtily to herself with a smirk. As she continued to rub at the white mark, she heard the door to the stall behind her slowly open with a squeal, and she looked behind her to see silver rhinestone-covered wedges and a hot pink pedicure with tiny black eighth notes painted carefully in the corner of each big toe. **Sharpay.** She looked up with her innocent face prepared, open mouthed in mock surprise. She grinned a little before she spoke. "Hi, Sharpay!"

Sharpay simple averted her eyes and gave her a nose-in-the-air movement, before walking out of the bathroom like the grimy tile on the floor of it was a red carpet runway. She sacrificed checking her appearance in one of the mirrors so make a quick and confident exit, showing Gabriella just how much she respected her. She heard Gabriella mutter "jeez, what a bitch" in the empty bathroom and frowned. 'If she wants to keep fooling everybody, she needs to stop talking to herself. Oh well, I guess her brain is just too small to have quiet thoughts' She thought to herself. She continued her walk down the hallway, lifting her perfect nose to anything unpleasant in her path, which, to her, was everyone in East High.

After Sharpay closed her tickle-me-pink jewel incrusted locker, she carried her music and designer purse to the auditorium, where she sat down on the piano bench to think. How could she be the only one in this whole school that new about the _real_ Gabriella? When Gabriella came to East High, Sharpay had had suspicions about her lying to the world, and so immediately after she got home she researched everything she knew about the Montez family, and was not shocked to find that every single part of it was true.

Gabriella had been arrested twice in her home back in Malibu, California, with nothing other than possession of ecstasy and drinking underage. Her mother had confessed in an invasive newspaper article that this was not the first time something like this had happened, although she hoped it would be the last. Too bad for her, Sharpay thought.

Sharpay could always smell different cheap cologne on the petite girl's skin every time she saw into her at the mall or passed her on the streets. Although she had never actually seen her doing anything with suggestive with guys, Sharpay still suspected that Little Miss Innocent had a small hooker business going; either that or she actually enjoyed whoring herself out to the local Latino men that hung out on the sketchier side of town. And even if she acted differently, Sharpay knew that Gabby was definitely not a virgin – she had stains on her jeans, smelled like sex sometimes, even during school, and had the air of a person who'd already taken the final step into adulthood. Sharpay wrinkled her nose at the idea of such filth and quickly printed out the articles and hearing announcements for Ms. Montez. She planned on slipping one copy into Troy Bolton's locker and the other onto the principal's desk. Little miss know-it-all would soon pay for taking over her Winter Musical, which, she knew, was going to be an awful presentation to sit through. That is, for everyone _but_ Sharpay Evans.


End file.
